A. J. Alexander’s Writing Assistant #3

On April 9, 2020, I published a post about how I got my ‘Baby Boy,’ my ‘Writing Assistant #1‘. A couple weeks back I published my Writing Assistant #2.

In my first Assistant post, I published about 2 feet of information about Maine Coon cats. In this post, I’ll spare you from the same information. If you like to read about it, go back to the first post.

Instead, I’m going to introduce you to my second ‘Baby Girl’, my ‘Writing Assistant #3’.

This girl, too, is a pure breed Maine Coon cat, including beautiful Lynx-tips. Indeed, this one is a former ‘Best of Show’ champion.

After I got Charlet, I saw, her breeder had a breathtaking Calico Torbie female. I told her: “I never wanted a third cat, but if you EVER retire that one, I’ll take her in. She laughed and informed me she had a waiting list.

Surprisingly, a few months later the breeder called me up and asked me if I would keep my word and take her in. She said, the beautiful kitty had a bad delivery with her last litter and she needs to be retired, but also she had arthritis and was barely three years old. That’s why the entire ‘waiting list’ didn’t want her anymore. Of course, I kept my word and picked her up. Only a short time later I realized the kitty had difficulties eating and I took her to the vet… long story short: Esme had cancer and after fighting for her life for eight months, I had to admit we lost the fight and I had to have her euthanized. She fell asleep in my arms, Jake was with us…

When we got back home, it took me a while to realize that Esme had taken over the pack lead from Charlet. I had not known that and was surprised that Jake and Charlet started fighting badly and Charlet scratched and bit Jake seriously a few times. They had to figure out again who was the boss and even after months they could not decide. I had two cats who couldn’t stand each other anymore.

Finally, I knew I had to give them something else to concentrate on. A kitty would have been a possibility. They would have to focus on the baby and would stop fighting. (or Charlet, as a former mother would have pulled the kitten to her side and they both could have sided against Jake).

I never had a kitten before and was considering getting one. I heard of a breeder having two litters with Maine Coon kittens. Of course, I had the chance to cuddle with the cutest kittens on Earth.

Picture courtesy of Google.com

But then, somehow, I did not have the right feeling. I sensed that I was about to make a really bad decision. I told that to the breeder. She seemed disappointed. And started to hand out treats to her adult cats… and there I saw her. An elegant, breathtaking pitch-black panther cat, with a beautiful bushy tail and green eyes…

I asked the breeder: “Erica, this black cat… you don’t consider giving her for adoption, right?” She started laughing. I was a bit disappointed and said “I understand… she’s far too beautiful.” But Erica shook her head. “No, that’s not why I’m laughing. But before you arrived I talked to a breeder friend of mine and told her, that I would soon retire Tjara from breeding, since she’s 4 1/2 years old, almost five. But I have two litters with kittens, who will want the five-year-old cat? You are now the first one checking out the two litters and you’re asking if you can have the adult cat.” We laughed together… and the cat I fell in love with, was mine.

Usually, when I take cats home, I’ll keep them separated for a few hours, in the room where the litter boxes are, prepare water and make sure they relax and start getting the smell of their new home.

This cat didn’t last even one hour. After twenty minutes she scratched the door and demanded to see the rest of her new home. I laughed, shrugged, and said: “Good Luck.”

Jake and Charlet were waiting outside. Tjara licked Jake’s nose and let Charlet hiss at her. Then she walked through the rest of her new home. After about half an hour, she sat on the carpet, looked around, looked at me, and seemed to say: “New home? New Mommy? New subordinates? Fits – MINE.”

She had taken over the pack within not even an hour and is the boss ever since. Not even two days later even the connection between Charlet and Jake had normalized, that’s how strong Tjara is as a pack-leader.

I’m very proud of my strong kitty-cat. She rules with an iron paw, but at the same time, she’s helpful and cuddly.

Here we go:

 

A. J. Alexander’s Writing Assistant #2

On April 9, 2020, I published a post about how I got my ‘Baby Boy,’ my ‘Writing Assistant #1‘.

I posted about 2 feet of information about Maine Coon cats. In this post, I’ll spare you from the same information. If you like to read about it, go back to the older post.

Instead, I’m going to introduce you to my first ‘Baby Girl’, my ‘Writing Assistant #2’.

This girl, too, is a pure breed Maine Coon cat, even though she is a bit small for the breed, and she is clearly missing the excessive Lynx-tips I love so much about Maine Coon cats. I don’t care. She’s beautiful, you will see.

I got her when my boy’s former playmate, the little black Persian cat, passed away. I wrote in my former post:

“When I had to euthanize his little Persian friend, he was angry about me and ignored me for quite some time, occasionally he bit me. And he was so depressed he had his tail hanging down. Maine Coons are very proud of their bushy long-haired tail and generally carry it high.”

I had to do something to make sure my boy wasn’t going to be alone too long, so I called the breeder and told her about the situation at that time. She explained to me that she had a female Maine Coon, a black tabby. Her last pregnancy didn’t go very well, and she did not want to risk the cat’s health by trying to pair her again. She, therefore, decided to retire the female at the age of three and a half years. Also, it was a huge advantage that the cats knew each other and came from the same household.

I thought it was a good idea, I also knew she needed a new home, and I sat in my car to pick her up. She is a cutie. A small, almost fragile cat with the cutest face and beautiful ‘tiger stripes’ in black and gray.

When she entered my home, she took over right away. There was no doubt she was the boss, but to my delight, she did not treat the male with contempt. They played together and occasionally argued, but the positions were clear.

Little did I know back then, that male cats are hierarchically far below the females. Female cats in groups are bad bullies. One female cat generally feels far above the males. My little girl acted the same. I had to find out yet, that in truth, she is a shy, insecure cat. What I considered ‘cuddly’ was her seeking my protection. To this day, she still does. Being transported around scares the living daylight out of her, and she still did not get over the big move. She got traumatized, and I often carry her around.

I’m very proud to have her. She is a few months older than the boy and is 11 years old this year, just like him.

She’s amazing and very cute. Even though to me, she looks like a ‘normal’ cat, she still has her Maine Coon characteristics and is a bit bigger than average.

Let me show you my ‘Writing Assistant #2’:

 

A. J. Alexander’s Writing Assistant #1

In an earlier blog post, I did introduce my three ‘writing assistants’ to all of you.

Today I’d like to tell you how I got my ‘baby boy’.

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I admit, for a long time I daydream about Maine Coon cats. To me, this particular cat breed owns the perfect combination of characteristics I find irresistible in a cat. And additionally, Maine Coons can grow huge, which I just love. Let me introduce you to the typical Maine Coon breed:

History
The Maine Coon, as the name implies, hails from Maine, where the breed was known as a popular mouser, farm cat, and ship’s cat, as far back as the early 19th century. They’re a natural breed and little is known of their origins. Some say the Vikings brought them to North America, centuries before Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Others say that they’re the descendants of longhaired cats belonging to Marie Antoinette, sent to America in advance of the doomed queen, who had hoped to escape there. Sea captains may have brought back longhaired cats that then mated with local shorthaired cats. One thing is for sure–the Maine Coon is not the result of a mating between a cat and a raccoon, even if their brown tabby coat and furry ringed tail suggest that biological impossibility. The resemblance is, however, how the cats got the “Coon” part of their name. In fact, Maine Coons who didn’t have the brown tabby coat were called Maine Shags.
The first published reference to a Maine Coon comes from 1861 and was about a black-and-white cat named Captain Jenks of the Horse Marines. A female Maine Coon was named Best Cat in 1895 at a cat show held in Madison Square Garden. In Boston and New York, the home-grown felines were popular exhibits at cat shows, and when the Cat Fanciers Association was formed in 1908, the fifth cat registered was a Maine Coon named Molly Bond. But the invasion of glamourous Persian and exotic Siamese cats from England around the turn of the century spelled the end of the Maine Coon’s popularity for about five decades. Things took a turn for the better in the 1960s, and the Maine Coon Breeders and Fanciers Association was formed in 1968. Today these big, beautiful cats are among the world’s most popular breeds. But what really counts, of course, is that they are the official state cat of Maine.

Size
This is a large cat. Most Maine Coons weigh 9 to 18 pounds–males are larger–and some tip the scales at 20 or more pounds. They don’t reach their full size until they are three to five years old.

Personality
The good-natured and affable Maine Coon adapts well to many lifestyles and personalities. They like being with people and have the habit of following them around, but they aren’t needy. They’re happy to receive attention when you direct it their way, but if you’re busy, they’re satisfied to just supervise your doings. Close a door on them and they will wait patiently for you to realize the error of your ways and let them in. They’re not typically a lap cat, but they do like to be near you.
They also retain their skill as a mouser. No rodents will be safe in a home where a Maine Coon resides. Even if you don’t have any mice for them to chase, they’ll keep their skills sharp by chasing toys and grabbing them with their big paws. A Maine Coon also enjoys playing fetch and will retrieve small balls, toys, or wadded-up pieces of paper. They can climb as well as any cat but usually prefer to stay on ground level. That’s where their work is, after all. They’re also very smart and will happily learn tricks or play with puzzle toys that challenge their brain.
Maine Coons usually enjoy a kittenish love of play well into adulthood. Males, especially, are prone to silly behavior. Females are more dignified, but they aren’t above a good game of chase. Not especially vocal, they make any requests in a soft chirp or trill.

Health
Both pedigreed cats and mixed-breed cats have varying incidences of health problems that may be genetic in nature. Problems that may affect the Maine Coon include the following:
Hip dysplasia, which in severe cases can cause lameness.
Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a form of heart disease that is inherited in Maine Coons. A DNA-based test is available to identify cats that carry one of the mutations that causes the disease.
Polycystic kidney disease, a slowly progressive heritable kidney disease that can result in renal failure.
Spinal muscular atrophy, a genetic disorder that affects skeletal muscles of the trunk and limbs. A test is available to identify carriers and affected kittens.

Care
Despite the length of the Maine Coon’s coat, it has a silky texture that doesn’t mat easily—if you groom it regularly. It is easily cared for with twice weekly combing to remove dead hair and distribute skin oils. Useful grooming tools include a stainless steel comb for removing tangles and what’s called a “grooming rake” to pull out dead undercoat, which is what causes tangles when it’s not removed. Use it gently, especially in the stomach area and on the tail. Maine Coons are patient, but they don’t like having their hair pulled any more than you do. Check the tail for bits of poop stuck to the fur and clean it off with a baby wipe. Bathe a Maine Coon as needed, which can range from every few weeks to every few months. If their coat feels greasy or their fur looks stringy, they need a bath.
Brush the teeth to prevent periodontal disease. Daily dental hygiene is best, but weekly brushing is better than nothing. Trim the nails every couple of weeks. Wipe the corners of the eyes with a soft, damp cloth to remove any discharge. Use a separate area of the cloth for each eye so you don’t run the risk of spreading any infection. Check the ears weekly. If they look dirty, wipe them out with a cotton ball or soft damp cloth moistened with a 50-50 mixture of cider vinegar and warm water. Avoid using cotton swabs, which can damage the interior of the ear.
Keep the Maine Coon’s litter box spotlessly clean. Cats are very particular about bathroom hygiene, and a clean litter box will help to keep the coat clean as well.
It’s a good idea to keep a Maine Coon as an indoor-only cat to protect them from diseases spread by other cats, attacks by dogs or coyotes, and the other dangers that face cats who go outdoors, such as being hit by a car. Maine Coons who go outdoors also run the risk of being stolen by someone who would like to have such a beautiful cat without paying for it.

Coat Color And Grooming
A Maine Coon is a big, rugged cat with a smooth, shaggy coat who looks as if they could put in a full day mousing on a farm in all weather conditions. Indeed, they were built for just such work in the harsh Maine climate, and their breed standard reflects their heritage, calling for a medium-size to large cat with a well-proportioned body that is muscular and broad-chested. A Maine Coon has substantial, medium-length legs and large, round paws, well tufted with fur, to serve as “snowshoes” during winter.
A heavy coat is shorter on the shoulders, longer on the stomach and britches (long fur on the upper hind legs), with a ruff in front and a long, furry tail waving a greeting. A medium-width head is slightly longer than it is wide and has a squarish muzzle. Large, well-tufted ears are wide at the base, tapering to a point, and large, expressive eyes are green, gold, greenish-gold or copper. White or bi-colored Maine Coons may have blue or odd eyes.
The brown tabby pattern is so common in this breed that many people don’t know Maine Coons can come in any other colors or patterns. They might be surprised to learn that Maine Coons are found in solid colors that include black, red or white, all tabby colors and patterns, bi-color such as blue and white or red and white, and patterns such as tortoiseshell and calico. (Source: https://cattime.com/cat-breeds/maine-coon-cats#/slide/1)

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Years ago I had a little black Persian cat which I rescued. Back then I had to get a second cat since it’s a bad thing to hold one single indoor cat. I looked around and then was told by a friend that she heard about a Maine Coon cat, directly from a breeder. But she doesn’t know why the young cat was given away.

I looked at the picture and thought it was quite cute. I called the breeder and we made an appointment. A couple weeks later I had a look at the young male.

We bonded instantly. I asked the breeder why she wants to ‘retire’ him from breeding at not even 18 months. He wasn’t even a ‘legal cat adult’. She explained to me that this young tomcat did not do ‘his job’. Instead, he was more interested in playing. Now, a young cat in heat wants a tomcat to do what nature dictates him to do… When he didn’t obey, they started attacking, biting and scratching him badly… they even bullied him, didn’t let him sleep and it got so bad, that the breeder had to separate him from the group. For that cat, this was a horrible punishment. He loves being in the company of other cats and humans and living locked away in a room was horrible to him. I was told he has a rare color. He’s a so-called ‘Golden Tabby’ with white. His color is rare and cannot be ‘produced’. It’s a genetic ‘accident’. It’s not very important to me. I actually fell in love with the mischievous sparkle in his eyes and his way of holding on to me when I carry him around.

The breeder entrusted him to me and I took him in and had him neutered. He loved playing with his Persian cat friend, even though he was double her size.

I loved his antics and still do to this day. When I got him, he was 18 months old. Male Maine Coon cats grow up to 4 1/2 years and he used every day of that. He grew into a beautiful tomcat. (And yes, officially he’s just a cat). But to me, he is ‘my boy’, and even now, being 11 years old, he still loves to play like a kitten. He is a very soft and careful cat! When the little Persian cat, his buddy, got very ill, she couldn’t clean herself anymore, and he helped her!

He played with three more cats since the Persian and has never injured even one of them.

When I had to euthanize his little Persian friend, he was angry about me and ignored me for quite some time, occasionally he bit me. And he was so depressed he had his tail hanging down. Maine Coons are very proud of their bushy long-haired tail and generally carry it high.

He calmed down a bit during the past couple of years. But there are days he’s completely falling back into his ‘teenager’ years.

And occasionally he sleeps rolled up on my desk or behind me in the office, and his purring helps me write.

This strong, big, mild and wonderful cat has captured my heart and is with me now for nearly 10 years.

He’s funny, sometimes a bit clumsy, curious and caring, playful and occasionally sleepy. There are moments he looks ‘regal’, like a wild tiger, proud and free… at other times he looks just cute. But no matter how he looks. He’s a great cat.

 

Introducing A Great Place To Write II

It’s been quite some time since I wrote about a great place to write. But a few weeks ago I found one. It was quite unexpected.

It’s getting cooler here… yes, even in Southern California autumn is visible and feelable. A couple weeks ago, I knew I’m going to be cool sitting outside and writing, and there was a breeze that can make writing on paper a bit uncomfortable at times. Besides, I hadn’t eaten that day and was a bit hungry.

I discovered ‘Mimi’s Bistro & Bakery’ in Thousand Oaks and found it inviting on the outside. I decided to go in and see if I could stay for a while, eat, and write.

It was homey and cozy inside as well, and I had a wonderful waitress, called Melissa. They have a quite attractive menu here:

I told Melissa who I am and what I planned, and she beamed like the sunshine and invited me to stay as long as I liked. She paid really good attention to me, did not constantly disturb me, and counted on me looking at her if I needed something.

I was in Mimi’s Bistro for about three and a half hours and loved it! The food is great, the staff was wonderful and polite, and since then, I had been back at ‘Mimi’s’ and enjoyed the ambiance and Melissa’s service again. Drop by and enjoy it!

That particular location of Mimi’s Bistro and Bakery can be found here:

Thousand Oaks
400 N Moorpark Rd.
Thousand Oaks, CA 91360
Phone: (805) 373-6161

If you ever go there, to eat – or write – or both, and you see Melissa, please tell her I said hi. She’s amazing!

My Mirror, My Face and I

Dear face,

After all these years of our cooperation, I thought I’d send you a letter. Just in case you’re asking yourself what the reason for this outpour is, there are several.

First, I’d like to say that I know it wasn’t always easy with me. Sometimes I have wanton neglected you, provided you with too much sun, too much snow or salt water. I let you experience dirt, mud, heat, ice, height, wind and air that cold, you nearly froze. I withheld the cream you needed, the humidity and once in a rare while, I paved you with makeup.

We both have come a long way together, and you went through so much with me, I felt I owe you an apology.

It’s time to realize; we’re facing the time when we aren’t silky and smooth anymore.

I discovered one thing today: you provided me with laugh lines. Nobody knows better that I love to smile and it shows. Thank you for them!

You don’t make me look grumpy and old – you make me look radiant, no matter what I put you through.

And I promise you something: no matter how deep these laugh lines get: I will never try to hide them by filling them with powder. There’s no reason. You show my humor. This bone flour is nothing but an agricultural damage.

You and I will be together for another very long time, and my laugh lines will get deeper. Maybe gravity will kick in. (Believe me, you’re not alone; the rest of the body is in that process too.)

But no matter what we’re going to face together, I hope we’ll never be losing our smile, our laughter, the sparkles in our eyes and our laugh lines.

I know I wasn’t always happy with you. But I figure, all in all, I could have gotten it worse.
I want to say thank you for going all the way with me – and I wish us both good luck for the future.

********
(Copyright: Aurora Jean Alexander, June 2017)

Published before: June 14, 2017 on ‘Writer’s Treasure Chest’

Picture courtesy of: http://www.google.com

Too Many Wings?

A surprising message in the news has caught my attention today. Plane had to land because of bird strike.

Now: Bird strike? That’s when birds fly into a plane, right? – Oh, wait! No, it’s the other way around. A plane flies into a bird swarm. Of course! Why in all the world would birds hit a plane?

And that moment, I’m afraid, my twisted brain played jokes on me, and I started to laugh.

‘Why would birds hit a plane?’

On a dare?

Imagine the following scene:
• “Hey there… want to join us?”
• “Yeah, okay.”
• “Cool… see that Airbus over there?”
• “Uhm… yes?”
• “Once through the turbine and you’re in.”

 

Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com

 

Or what about suicide birds? Of course, it made me laugh too; but after all, we don’t know what birds are thinking.
“I don’t want to live anymore… I hate it to be a bird… I suffer from vertigo!”

 

Picture courtesy of http://www.google.com

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I had to learn that indeed bird strike is a sincere problem and can in fact damage an airplane.
Seriously, I have been naïve about it. I just thought: “Hey… that’s an airplane, what can a bird do there? Scratch the windshield?”
I was told: “What do you think happens, if up there, 30,000 feet above the ground that little scratch through pressure and speed causes the windshield to break and fly off?”
I thought: “What? – Hmmm. What would happen, if the windshield of a plane actually does fly off?”
And to be honest, my joking brain, of course, thought about the pilot’s announcement: “Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s your captain speaking with some amazing news: We are now flying a convertible.”
My-oh-my… I know I’m bad.

 

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But honestly: I wish someone could explain to me what bird strike does to an airplane – in particular, a big airplane. I’m almost sure we aren’t talking about a flock of sparrows. How big do the birds have to be to become a danger to an airplane? How many birds would be in a swarm in such a case? If someone knows about it, please, let me know. Thank you.

 

The Day I looked Into The Mirror

Dear face,

 

After all these years of our cooperation, I thought I’d send you a letter. Just in case you’re asking yourself what the reason for this outpour is, there are several.

First, I’d like to say that I know it wasn’t always easy with me. Sometimes I have wanton neglected you, provided you with too much sun, too much snow or salt water. I let you experience dirt, mud, heat, ice, height, wind and air that cold, you nearly froze. I withheld the cream you needed, the humidity and once in a rare while, I paved you with makeup.

We both have come a long way together, and you went through so much with me, I felt I owe you an apology.

It’s time to realize; we’re facing the time when we aren’t silky and smooth anymore.

I discovered one thing today: you provided me with laugh lines. Nobody knows better that I love to smile and it shows. Thank you for them!

You don’t make me look grumpy and old – you make me look radiant, no matter what I put you through.
And I promise you something: no matter how deep these laugh lines get: I will never try to hide them by filling them with powder. There’s no reason. You show my humor. This bone flour is nothing but an agricultural damage.

You and I will be together for another very long time, and my laugh lines will get deeper. Maybe gravity will kick in. (Believe me, you’re not alone; the rest of the body is in that process too.)

But no matter what we’re going to face together, I hope we’ll never be losing our smile, our laughter, the sparkles in our eyes and our laugh lines.

I know I wasn’t always happy with you. But I figure, all in all, I could have gotten it worse.

I want to say thank you for going all the way with me – and I wish us both good luck for the future.

 

********

(Copyright: Aurora Jean Alexander, June 2017)

 

Picture courtesy of: http://www.google.com

 

I Never Wore A Ballroom Gown

For a moment I considered telling you my life was dabbling and boring and nothing exciting ever happened, but that’s simply not true. I had many highlights in my life. And if they weren’t there, I produced them. I had ups and downs, some of my decisions were good, others not so much, but I was never bored in my life, not even for one minute.

But there is one thing I’m missing until now: I never had the chance to wear a ballroom gown. Yes, I know, there’s prom… but unfortunately not for me. The reason for that will be staying in the shadows. It just didn’t happen. So, no prom, no gown.

Lately, I was thinking about the gown I would have probably picked. I mean, we agree that every girl and woman once in her lifetime wants to feel like a princess, right? I therefore very much suspect my prom gown would have looked something like this:

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I know… it couldn’t be more opulent and flamboyant, right? I still think the dresses are somehow cute. But not for me. I think the blue one would have been closest to my choice back then. It’s cute, I love the cold color palette, and I had been enthusiastic about the different layers of fabric.  I would have looked like the strolling version of a sparkling mosquito net, but I had been happy.

Well, my prom age is a few years back. (I love the expression ‘a few.’ It’s extendable). Would I pick one of these now, or did my taste completely change?

You bet it changed. Should I ever have the chance of going to a ball, soiree, dance party where evening gowns are demanded, I would more pick something like this:

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But most likely, and because I am who I am, I’d show up in a dress very similar to this one (with different shoes of course since I like my ankles too much to sacrifice their wellbeing to some murderous instruments like these):

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Yes, I know. My taste has significantly changed within the past decade (or more). I got more adult, started preferring more the ‘modest’ and classic style, but with a tiny extra that reveals the noble elegance of what I wear.

But I simply doubt I’d ever be invited to some ball, neither today nor tomorrow and probably not even in the next two or eight months.

What am I going to do to fulfill my personal dream of once in my lifetime looking and feeling like a princess?

 

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Aaaaahhhhh…. my wedding! I love to look at wedding dresses, just like every other woman does too. At current times (April 2017) this article does on no account mean I will get married anytime soon.

At this point, looking at possible future wedding dresses, I found out pretty quickly, my taste has changed here as well.

Haven’t I been dreaming of wearing a dress like Empress Elizabeth of Austria, with wide, expanding crinolines and layers and layers of tulle, silk, lace, silver or gold and an enormous train?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This would not be too comfortable, but at least I ensured that I’d spend the day more or less alone since guests, family, and groom would politely stay at least 6 feet away not to endanger polluting my wedding dress nor stepping on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breathtaking, aren’t’ they? And about as comfortable as spending the night on a bed of nails. Fifteen years (or a few more) ago, I had picked one of these without hesitating. Nowadays I’d rather let my fingernails be pulled out than being forced to get married in such a monstrosity. I’m not saying they are not beautiful. More the opposite. I’m only saying, they would look awful on me.

 

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Then I found two other extravagant wedding gowns which made me burst out into laughter. They’re hilarious. I’m trying to imagine how I’d be looking in this dress below on the left: probably like some exploded cotton candy.

And how about the one on the right? AJ costumed as the walking bird flu.

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What would I pick now to get married in? Yes… the same simple, classically elegant dress I think would best show who I am.

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

And should you ever see a wedding from far, where the bride is blond and wearing this dress, then it’s most likely going to be me, taking my last chance ever to wear a beautiful gown. (And promising the love of my life everlasting support, faithfulness, confidence amongst a few other things).


All pictures are courtesy of: www.pinterest.com